


Change of Heart

by dazzler



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Cloaca, Jealousy, M/M, Mutual Pining, Orgasm Denial, implied Hien/WoL
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-21
Updated: 2018-04-21
Packaged: 2019-04-25 23:12:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14389092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dazzler/pseuds/dazzler
Summary: Most of his men had the good sense not to talk to him about his relationship with Magnai.





	Change of Heart

**Author's Note:**

> For one Rana Rosales! I appreciate Rana's help in getting these two knuckleheads together.

The last night before they returned to Azim Khaat, the Budugan hunting party made camp in the shadow of the Towering Still, a short ways from the Hundred-and-one Revelations. Their kills were bundled in cloth and laid out on the rocks, and Daidukul and Hooshal were seeing to it that no scavengers tried to take them. They sat by the campfire after everyone else had retired for the evening, listening to the sounds of the river and watching water sprites play in the shallows. The creatures scattered bright blue sparks each time they collided with one another.

“Temuge did well, didn’t he?” said Hooshal at length. The limbal rings of his eyes glowed in the darkness.

“He shows a lot of promise, if he can learn to be more patient. His premature ambushes scare off the prey,” Daidukul replied. As tradition dictated, the boy’s coming-of-age hunt lasted a full moon, with the older members of the tribe teaching him how to stalk creatures and survive on the steppe.

“That is simply a matter of growing older.” Hooshal leaned back and looked up at the stars. “Worry not, no one has measured up to your first hunt. Although I recall you spent a lot of time being chased by that handsome friend of yours.”

Daidukul smacked Hooshal in the shoulder. “My hunt was far more successful than his.”

Hooshal took a sip from his waterskin to hide an embarrassed smile. They fell into a companionable silence once more, and Daidukul found his gaze drawn to the Dawn Throne in the distance, the surface lit by lanterns and making it appear as a vessel filled with light.

“Nice to have a break from village life, but better to have somewhere to go back to,” Hooshal said. “You’ve been missing Magnai this past moon, haven’t you?”

Daidukul grunted in response. Most of his men had the good sense not to talk to him about his relationship with Magnai, but Hooshal had known him for much too long to be delicate. Magnai had acted surprised when Daidukul announced his trip. It was somewhat insulting-- just because Oroniri men were expected to contribute less to childrearing, didn’t mean that all tribes had the same standards.

Hooshal tapped a finger on his knee. “He still thinks he has to wed a woman?”

“Last I heard.”

“He carries on trying to find his Nhaama while you share yourself with him only.” Hooshal shook his head. “It does not seem fair, my khan.”

Daidukul lobbed a stick into the fire and said nothing. He didn’t remember when it became exclusive on his end. At some point he noticed Magnai was sullen and unhappy when he slept with other men, so he stopped. Perhaps it wasn’t fair, but Daidukul told himself it did not bother him-- they were still merely allies, and if they had sex sometimes, it would only strengthen the bond between their tribes.

Besides, Magnai seemed about as close to finding a wife as Daidukul.

“I just want you to be happy. When Yabuqa and I confirmed our bond--”

“I doubt anyone could be as happy as you two,” said Daidukul, interrupting him.

“Well, I never took you for the type to settle down before,” Hooshal said with a shrug. “But the tribe has yet to see you look at another man the way you do at him.”

Daidukul bristled. “The tribe should stop reading too much into it.”

“Everyone knows you two are together, Daidukul.”

“That is enough,” he said, standing, grinding his heel into the dirt.

Hooshal looked up at him, and Daidukul could see in his face he wasn’t teasing but concerned. Anger deflating, Daidukul turned away from the fire, putting his back to the man who had known him since he’d taken his first hunting trip.

“I am content the way we are now,” he said, knowing Hooshal did not believe him, and knowing he did not quite believe himself.

 

* * *

 

The hunting party arrived at the village the next morning. After making some arrangements for Temuge’s return feast, Hooshal slipped away to be alone with his partner, and Daidukul went to greet Magnai.

As he approached the palace gate, the sight of the Budugan and Oroniri banners hanging side by side filled him with pride. It had not been easy, keeping their tribes together, and there was still the odd disagreement, but somehow they always managed to settle it and continue on.

That warm feeling stayed with him right up until he arrived in the throne room, where Magnai sat scowling at him with his arms crossed. He was flanked by Baatu and Bugunutei. Daidukul thought that perhaps, after a moon of hunting, Magnai would be pleased to see him.

Apparently not.

“Daidukul,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. Daidukul suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. “You made camp by the Hundred-and-one last night. I could see the smoke from up here.”

“And?”

“Should you not have returned then? Why did you waste a night cooking and pitching tents?”

“I know you pay little attention to the primitive customs of those not blessed by the sun, _Most Radiant_ , but anyone here could have told you it is a tradition for young Buduga to spend a whole moon on their first hunt. Not a day less.”

Baatu glanced nervously between them. They both ignored him. “You are not a young Buduga,” Magnai countered.

“It is all of our duty to see to the growth of the tribe. Besides, we brought back enough to feed the village for half a season.”

“You may just as well show me.” Magnai rose from the throne and gestured for Daidukul to lead the way to their kills.

“O Radiant One, Daidukul, I hardly think this is--” Baatu began, but Daidukul and Magnai turned to glare at him with enough force to stop a rampaging purbol in its tracks.

They barely made it out of the throne room before Magnai dragged him into an alcove and pushed him up against the wall. His tongue filled Daidukul’s mouth, hot and insistent, and his thigh moved to part Daidukul’s legs.

Well then. Daidukul managed to suck in a breath between kisses. “Not here,” he said, panting. “Someone will see.”

Magnai broke off with a frustrated noise. “I thought I’d have you in my bed last night.”

Daidukul couldn’t help his half-smile. “You could have ridden out to meet me, if you were so desperate.”

“Wasn’t desperate,” said Magnai. He did not let go of Daidukul’s wrist.

The two of them retreated to Magnai’s chambers at the top level of the palace. The wide windows opened to the east, and at the center of the room stood Magnai’s bed, bathed in the mid morning sun. The outside was decorated with carved panels depicting hunting scenes, and the silk hangings over the entrance were embroidered with figures of Azim and Nhaama.

Daidukul brushed them aside and ducked beneath the wooden canopy. The interior was piled high with baras furs, as per Magnai’s comfort, though Daidukul was beginning to find it difficult to sleep without them as well. The first few nights of hunting had been cold indeed. He took a seat on the bed and Magnai followed after him, sliding his hands over Daidukul’s shoulders.

“An entire moon, you left me.”

“What would you have me do?” Daidukul asked, half a gentle rebuke, half a question of where exactly Magnai wanted him. He stroked the nape of Magnai’s neck, flexed his fingers in Magnai’s thick hair.

“Just stay,” Magnai said, and he dropped to his knees at the side of the bed. Daidukul swore as arousal flared hot in the pit of his stomach.

He’d been cautious the first time. Magnai took romance far too seriously for his liking-- not that he would ever fit the mould of “ethereal maiden.” Caution fled like dark from the dawn when Daidukul found himself fucking Magnai into his bed the night they won the Naadam. It had been clear, then, that Magnai had been with men before him. Daidukul didn’t ask about it.

No, he had known exactly what he was getting into. But when Magnai looked up at him like he was doing now, his eyes dark gold under thick lashes, Daidukul ceased all rational thought. His cock grew heavy in his smallclothes, straining against the fabric of his loincloth.

Magnai palmed him through it with a feral grin. “You missed me, too.”

“Parts of me did.” Daidukul rolled his hips suggestively. He was never one for heartfelt talks, and he was eager to keep going. It _had_ been a while. Magnai kneaded his thigh and leaned forward, breathing hot air on his erection, and Daidukul pulled his smallclothes aside to let Magnai swallow him down.

“Greedy,” Daidukul said, stroking Magnai’s cheek. Sharp nails dug into his thigh in response, carving half-moons into the flesh. Magnai enjoyed marking him. Daidukul wore them all proudly: Magnai’s bites at his neck, the bruises on his knees, the scratches on his back from Magnai’s claws raking his skin. His Budugan clothing covered very little. The next morning, Magnai would watch him with a proprietary gaze from the throne, and Daidukul would soak it in like rays of spring sunlight, like some sort of complete and utter fool.

Hooshal’s words echoed in his ears: _everyone knows, everyone knows._

He came in hot spurts over Magnai’s tongue, and Magnai pulled back in time for Daidukul’s come to stripe his mouth and drip down his chin. Daidukul felt another twinge of arousal watching him lick his lips clean. “You did well,” he said, because he knew Magnai liked to hear it.

Magnai looked up, touching himself almost absently with one hand, and Daidukul gazed back and wondered who he saw there. He bent down and kissed Magnai’s swollen lips, tasting himself, feeling Magnai shudder with release beneath him.

They rarely said anything afterward, curling up together, warm and heavy-limbed and breathing slowly. This time, Daidukul stroked Magnai’s forehead and spoke quietly to him, telling him stories from his recent trip-- then going further back to his own coming-of-age hunt. Magnai drifted to sleep in his arms, and Daidukul soon followed.

 

* * *

 

The week after his return, they were practically glued to one another, as if making up for lost time. Daidukul was half certain they would be caught, the way Magnai kept pulling him aside for furtive kisses or a trip up to his room.

He did not understand why it wasn’t enough: how Magnai could be with him every night and still spend every day looking for something he was never going to find. Or maybe he would. Somehow, that thought was even worse.

By the end of the week, Daidukul felt sore and exhausted and miserable, all because Hooshal couldn’t keep his damned mouth shut. He took to meandering walks at dusk, going from the yol roost to the palace gates before ending up, inevitably, back in Magnai’s bed.

The night he stumbled into Rana outside the palace, the grounds were dark, the moon waning overhead. He was too lost in thought to notice he wasn’t alone until a voice called out to him from several feet below.  

“Thought I might find you brooding. Buduga have an inclination for it, don’t we?”

Daidukul looked down and beheld a pair of twitching, furry ears, attached to a short fellow dressed in what looked like a loincloth and a robe. “Rana? What are you doing here?”

The Auri-Miqo’te man grinned up at him. “That’s no way to greet your favorite warrior.”

“Well, I assumed you to be occupied leading another revolution or some nonsense.” Daidukul squinted into the darkness. “That fool brother of yours here?”

“Malak is in Ala Mhigo with his beau. I’ve been with my family for the past few weeks, helping them with business.” He held up the basket of plants he was carrying. “Care to find somewhere else to talk? My feet are quite tired.”

Daidukul gestured for him to follow and led him to his tent. Only after they entered did he realize how obvious it was that no one had lived there for moons. Rana set his basket on the low table and sat down beside it. He dragged a finger through the fine layer of dust on the surface, motes catching the small slivers of moonlight shining through the roof. Daidukul rustled at the dead coals in the central firepit before giving up and taking a seat across from him.

“Temuge had his first hunt,” he said by way of explanation. Rana nodded, eyes falling on the untouched bed, and Daidukul attempted a swift change in subject. “Shame you did not bring Brother Hien along.”

Rana looked sheepish. “He’s probably busy.”

The two of them drifted into an awkward silence. Layla, Rana’s father, also had a tendency to disappear across countries without a word. Daidukul had barely recognized Rana and Malak when they arrived at the Dawn Throne in the company of foreigners more than a decade later.

Unlike his brother, who came of age on the steppe, Rana never had a first hunt. Daidukul knew Layla taught him well, but he still wished he could have given the boy that rite.

“How is Magnai?” Rana asked, dragging Daidukul from his thoughts. “I hear he searches for his Nhaama with more fervor than ever.”

Daidukul glowered at the reminder. “We’re still waiting to find out what will happen after he’s rejected all of the women in Othard.”

“Perhaps you should just talk to him about it,” said Rana, his hopeful expression making Daidukul wince. Either the Warriors of Light were possessed of deductive powers beyond those of mortal men, or Hooshal was right and everyone knew. Damn it, Hooshal was always right. “It’s possible he doesn’t realize what he means to you.”

“As much as your father loved to wander away from the steppe, I do remember him,” Daidukul said. “I won’t make the same mistake of falling for an Oroniri man and being left for some Nhaama.”

Rana grew quiet for a moment, his finger tracing neat circles in the dust on the table. “I’ve lost a lot of friends these past few years, people I was closer to than anyone. But I… I don’t regret the time I spent with them, or caring about them in the first place. I don’t think my father does, either. Besides, he might never have had Malak.”

“Yes, how fortunate that wasn’t the case,” said Daidukul, crossing his arms. “Pah. Telling me to have my heart broken. I’m still your elder.”

“Well, you never know until you try.”

“I suppose n-- Rana, the table is on fire!” Daidukul leapt to his feet. A small flame flickered above the wood, casting an orange glow over the tent.

“Oh! Sorry, force of habit.” Rana used his sleeve to scrub at the leylines he’d drawn and the fire extinguished itself. “A blessing it didn’t get the plants, or we’d be ten malms high by now.”

Daidukul decided not to ask.  

Rana yawned suddenly, ears going flat and his tail curling into a hook behind him. “Pardon me.” He covered his mouth with his hand. “Today has been very long.”

“You’re welcome to stay here. Careful using the fire pit, though.”

“Is that alright?” Rana’s face broke into a relieved smile. “I promise not to burn the place down.”

“You might not remember it, but I held you when you were no larger than a newborn lamb,” said Daidukul. “Of course it’s alright. I’ll leave you to get some rest.”

Rana followed him to the entrance of the tent to bid him farewell. “Say hello to Magnai for me, won’t you?”

Daidukul sighed. “Good night, Rana.”

 

* * *

 

Magnai was already in bed when Daidukul entered their chambers, leaning up against the frame and wrapped in a sheepskin robe. The lantern shone through the wooden carved panels and cast shadows on his skin that looked like another set of scales. His hair was loose, and it fell in soft waves around his horns-- probably waiting for Daidukul to braid it.

“You’re late. Is aught amiss?” Magnai asked, after Daidukul had stripped off his gloves and loincloth and climbed in beside him. His voice sounded odd, somehow.

“No. Rana was here.” Daidukul’s gaze landed on the embroidered Azim and Nhaama hanging over the bed. In the low light, it looked like they were leering at him.

“Just Rana?”

“Yes. I put him up in my tent. Seemed eager to leave Kugane for a while.” He reached out to take a strand of Magnai’s hair between his fingers, but Magnai moved away.

“I saw you go in with someone, and I thought…” He trailed off.  

Daidukul’s jaw clenched. “Magnai,” he said through his teeth, “I haven’t touched another man in moons, but you spend countless bells interviewing potential wives while I stand at your side, wearing your marks. Do not play the jealous lover with me.”

Magnai looked fairly like he’d been kicked in the stomach. “You haven’t?”

“No.”

 _Just talk to him_ , Rana had said, as though it were that simple. Daidukul did not have the words. He never did. Before Magnai, he was accustomed to friendly encounters that meant nothing, not-- whatever this was.

“I did not intend to cast aspersions--”

Daidukul interrupted with a harsh bark of laughter. “Forgive me if I find that difficult to believe.”

Magnai stared at him. “You speak so scornfully of marriage, I thought you did not share the same desires as I.”

“You never asked.” Of course he found Magnai’s idea of marriage repellent-- there was no choice in it. The idea of a destined mate rendered all previous relationships meaningless. Why even bother wasting time on someone who wasn’t your Nhaama? On someone like him?

“Daidukul,” Magnai said, “I’m in love with you.”

“You.” Daidukul struggled to form speech, a hundred thoughts crashing through his head at once. He shrank from Magnai’s unwavering gaze, that intense look the fool got before charging into a fight-- all glorious sunfire and no godsdamned strategy. “You what?”

Magnai said it again, which did not help Daidukul’s situation at all.

“What about your Nhaama?” he managed to splutter.

“I wanted to stop searching,” said Magnai, “but I thought if I found her, it would not hurt as much.”

“It shouldn’t hurt at all.” But he knew better than that, because it hurt Daidukul, too, this tangled up thing between them. Sometimes he felt like an open wound that Magnai kept digging his fingers into and prying apart, and if only Magnai would stop turning those eyes on him, he could think--

“The night after we won the Naadam.” Magnai reached out a hand and tentatively touched Daidukul’s cheek. “Tell me you felt it.”

“You complete and utter fool,” said Daidukul, half to himself. He stroked the scales at Magnai’s jaw and then tilted his chin toward him, drawing him into a kiss that began chaste but quickly turned heated, Magnai moaning into his mouth. “I felt it, too,” he whispered as they separated, and Magnai breathed out, warm on Daidukul’s lips.

“Would you still have me?” Magnai pushed the fur blanket off and went to his knees before him on the bed.

Daidukul responded by putting his hands on Magnai’s hips and dragging him into his lap, and their lips met once more.

“Your eyepatch,” said Magnai, and Daidukul nodded, giving him permission. Magnai reached behind him, fumbling with the knot at the back until Daidukul caught his wrist and helped him slide it free. The cloth fluttered to the bed, and Magnai leaned forward to kiss the ruined skin beneath. Being from a battle he fought as a young man, the scars no longer caused Daidukul any discomfort or shame, but it was still pleasant, having Magnai pay attention to them.

When he’d had enough, Daidukul put his hands on Magnai’s chest and pushed him onto his back. His robe was in a disarray and he was naked beneath, his cock already standing proud and flushed between his legs with a bead of liquid leaking from the tip. Starting with his neck, Daidukul began to make his way down Magnai’s body, peeling back the robe and kissing every ilm of exposed skin.

Magnai’s hands on him were gentle, thumb rubbing at Daidukul’s jaw, fingers carding through his hair. Daidukul moved lower, until the ridges of his horns brushed the insides of Magnai’s thighs and he could smell how aroused Magnai was.

“Radiant Dawn Father.” His legs fell further open and he sighed. “ _Daidukul_.”

Daidukul drew Magnai’s length into his mouth, tightening his lips around it. It lay hot and thick on his tongue, and Daidukul closed his eyes and relaxed his jaw, pressing forward. Magnai’s touches grew more urgent, grabbing at his horns and pulling his hair. Daidukul, feeling indulgent, let him fuck his throat until Magnai’s thrusts grew frantic and shallow.

“Let me--” Magnai began, choking when Daidukul drew back, took his cock in hand, and squeezed.

“Not until I’ve had my fill of you,” said Daidukul, voice hoarse. Keeping his fingers tight around the root of him, Daidukul trailed his other hand down to play with his slit. “Do you touch yourself while I am away?”

Before Magnai could answer, Daidukul dipped his tongue inside. Magnai’s cock pulsed, and Daidukul squeezed it again, eliciting a drawn-out moan.

“Perhaps” --he nudged Magnai’s legs apart-- “you imagine me inside you.” Beneath the bed was a small wooden chest. Daidukul retrieved a vial of oil from the top drawer and poured some into his palm.

“Hurry,” said Magnai, slightly muffled, as Magnai had covered his face with his hands. Daidukul laid an obliging kiss at his hip and pressed a slick fingertip into him, and Magnai arched into the touch, sighing.

By the time he had two fingers sliding in and out of Magnai with ease, Daidukul could feel a dampness against his own belly where his cock jutted out from its slit. His other hand trailed featherlight over Magnai’s cock. “You damn-- damned tease, trying to kill me--” Magnai broke off with an animal noise, slamming his head back against the bed.

Daidukul snorted. “Oh, you’d be long dead if that were the case.”

He guided Magnai onto his hands and knees on the bed, lining himself up and sinking slowly into him. Magnai’s broad back stretched before him, covered with a sheen of sweat. Daidukul admired the way the muscles rippled when he pushed in, how all of Magnai’s strength was laid out at his command. Magnai’s fists clenched in the fur blankets, his arms shaking.

“Yess--” He let out a hiss of pleasure. “Daidukul...”

“My light,” Daidukul said, and when he spoke, his voice sounded so strange and unfamiliar he almost didn’t recognize it. He could not recall how or when it began-- this painful, tender intimacy, the way Magnai gazed at him over his shoulder when Daidukul pinned him to the bed.

“Turn over.” Daidukul skimmed his hands down Magnai’s heaving sides. “I want to see you come.”

Magnai whimpered a little as Daidukul withdrew, but he did as he was told, his face flushed, his eyes wide and shining. His erection left a trail of fluid where it brushed his stomach.

When Daidukul shoved in again in one long stroke, Magnai bit his lip and spent over both of their stomachs. Daidukul continued to fuck him, Magnai’s powerful legs wrapped around his waist, until he felt his own release building. He pushed in deep and came inside while Magnai clung to him.

After Daidukul had cleaned them both off and climbed back into bed, he draped an arm over Magnai’s waist and slept better than he had in moons.

 

* * *

 

“It’s awfully tight.” Magnai did a turn, looking at where his tail peeked out from over the loincloth. “You are certain this is correct?”

“It’s tradition.” Daidukul finished adjusting the straps on Magnai’s gloves, then placed the ceremonial necklaces over his shoulders. He took a step back to admire his work. “You wear it well.”

He could hear the muffled din of laughter and music coming from outside. Hooshal and Baatu somehow convinced half the steppe to attend (and Daidukul noted with some satisfaction that Rana brought Hien as his plus one). According to Budugan ceremony, they would spar, the assembled guests wagering gifts on which of them would win.

Hooshal’s voice came from the other side of the tent flap. “My khans, it is time.”

“Are you nervous?” Daidukul asked.

“We’ve wrestled before. This is no different,” Magnai said, “except… I suppose we will be husbands afterward.”

Daidukul grinned. “And I will win, as usual.”

“Confident, aren’t you?” Magnai cocked his head, smiling back. “I am ready.”

Daidukul took his hand, and together they stepped out of the tent.


End file.
